Strangers in the Night
by masked-spangler
Summary: Sequel to 'Moving on' and spoilers for 4.07 onward. Cross-over with Grey's Anatomy. Deals with rape. As Charlotte returns to work following what's happened, she finds that the body is healing, but the mind, not so much...
1. Chapter 1

_Note: This is a sequel to my previous fic, Moving On. It helps if you read it first, but if you haven't, the gist is that this follows Charlotte and Cooper post 4.07 and goes AU from there. In this AU, Charlotte and Cooper are struggling to deal with the rape. Cooper has begun attending a spouses and partners support group, Charlotte is working through some panic attack issues (and not much else productive) with Violet, and Amelia has become a friend and recently a neighbour as well. And now, the story continues with a visit from Addison's Grey's Anatomy friend Callie, who comes to visit, and it's a good thing too because her specialty will turn out to be very useful. Apologies if I get any of the medical info wrong-I am relying on Dr. Wikipedia and years of medical drama watching for all of it except for one aspect. I did my best to get it right. Oh, and this fic is an angsty one-it has a happy ending, but there is a rough patch first. Consider yourself warned.  
_

Strangers in the Night

She's woken, again, by the pounding, ear-splitting pulse of her own screams. There is a hand on her. She thrashes, sheer instinct, sheer fight or flight, and kicks against the pressure and the noise and the panic. There are lights. Real ones, not dream ones this time. And a soft voice crooning gently in her ear.

"I'm here, I'm here, it's okay..."

But she's still reeling, still trying to separate the now from the dream, and her body recoils instinctively from the pressure of his hands against her skin. She whimpers, shrugs out of his grasp, buries her face deep within the blankets. Hears him sigh and feels the bed lighten as he leaves it. She is aware of lights going on in the other room, and his voice again.

She sneaks away into the bathroom while he is occupied. It's sweet that he's been so attentive. But right now, she really needs to be some place where she can close the door on him.

* * *

She's cradled up against the cool tile wall of the bathroom, legs crossed, yoga-style. She's doing the meditation breaths, like Violet taught her, when at last there is a knock on the door.

"Charlotte?"

Amelia. Not him. Third time this week he's called her down here for something like this, and she's wondering if Amelia is starting to regret becoming their neighbour. A part of her is still herself enough to register disgust at this state of affairs. She can't remember a time in her life since infancy where she has needed this much tending...

"Char, honey, it's Amelia. Can I come in?"

She takes a deep breath. "He out there?"

"You want him to be?"

"Just you right now."

She cracks open the door, lets Amelia come in. Lets Amelia look her up and down as much as she can in the dim glow of the nightlight...

"So?" Amelia asks.

She shrugs. "Just needed to be somewhere quiet and dark right now."

"Fair enough. You want to tell me about it?"

"Not really."

"You want to go back to bed yet?"

"Hell no."

"You know, I could give you a lecture about this. Tell you that you need your sleep or something."

"But you won't, because you know I'll smack you?"

"But I won't because I'm neither boring nor predictable and that's what lectures are. You gave Coop a scare, babe."

"That's the least of what's wrong."

"I know. But you scared him just the same. He'd really like to come in here and see you right now."

Meditation breaths. One, two, three...

"Fine," she finally says. "Let him come and see."

She registers the relief on Amelia's face, feels momentarily guilty. But she doesn't dwell on that. Let other people deal as they will. She has enough dealing to do herself.

* * *

He's limping a little. She softens. "Did I get you?"

"Nowhere that'll leave a mark. Charlotte..."

"No. I'm done talking. You and Violet, you want to talk all the time..."

"I want to understand," he says. "I want to know where you go in your head when this happens."

"No."

"Then I want to know why you go there, so I can know how to stop it from happening."

"Don't know. Don't know."

"And then I want to know what I can do to bring you out again."

She reaches out her hand for him. "Yeah. That's the tough one, ain't it?"

"What can I do, Charlotte? What can I do? I know that this is...it's bigger than me, than you, than...I know, I really do. But can you give me one thing, maybe? Just one thing tonight, that I can do?"

Meditation breaths. Escalation, she reminds herself as she feels her fingers clenching. That's all it is, it's a stress response and it's an escalation and she can dial this back again. Meditation breaths...

"Your hands," she finally says.

He frowns. "My hands? What about them?"

"Just that if it's...if it's bad, like it was tonight, I don't always come out of it right away. And I can't tell that it's your hands, not his..."

He winces. "I just...just want to hold you. When I see that you're hurting, I want to hold you and take away your pain..."

"Then hold me now, after. But when we're there, in that moment, you need to control yourself and keep your hands away."

Her eyes are hard and strong and fortified by meditation breaths. His are swimming with tears. "I love you," he says. "I don't want to hurt you."

She nods. "Then keep your hands away. I love you too, Coop. But keep your goddamned hands away."

* * *

They send Amelia home again, and Cooper declares himself too shaken to sleep again.

"You want some tea?" he asks. "Breakfast, maybe? I could make French toast..."

She rubs her eyes. "What time is it?"

"Nearly five."

"In the morning?"

He nods.

"Damn," she says. "Bet Amelia's fit to be tied."

"She understands."

"I don't want her understanding. I want this not to be...not to..."

"Shhh. I know, sweetheart, I know. Can I...can I hold you now? God, Charlotte, you scared me to death, can I just hold you for a few minutes?"

She doesn't really want him to. But she submits, in the name of him shutting up already. She sees now why he and Violet are such good friends. They both love to talk like nobody's business.

* * *

She goes into work with him-cleared for that now, going on a week-and she has to admit, she's feeling groggy. It'll wear off. Enough caffeine, or enough sugar-that's Amelia's doing, that vice-and it'll wear off. She just hopes it wears off before Violet sees her...

No luck. Violet's waiting in her office when she gets there.

"Good morning, Charlotte," Violet says.

"Damn. Which one of 'em called you?"

"That's not really relevant."

"Like hell it's not! Which one, Violet?"

"I'm not discussing that with you. Can I ask, how you're feeling?"

"Damn tired of talking about this."

"That's normal."

"Damn tired of hearing that too. Did you want something, Violet? Cause I actually do have some charts to catch up on..."

Violet sighs. "You know, this would be a lot easier if you would just open up a little."

"Nothing about this is easy. Well? We done?"

* * *

She finds her morning more than a little frantic. The charts really have been piling up in her absence, and she still has one arm in a cast to boot. It's the one bandage that hasn't come off yet, and the itching has been driving her crazy. Last day or two, it's been hurting too, and she thought she was over that.

Amelia comes in just as she's hitting her limit.

"Hey, chica."

"Hey, Amelia."

Amelia nods to the charts. "Your eyes crossing yet?"

"Damn near. You got plans for lunch today?"

"Addison has a friend from Seattle coming in. We were supposed to go meet her at the airport, but I heard the plane was delayed. Fog."

"From Seattle, that don't surprise me. So, you got plans?"

"Why?"

"Feeling like I could do with a meeting..."

Amelia immediately gets quiet, looks her up and down appraisingly. "Your arm?"

"Did I say I wanted to talk about it?"

"Okay, okay, I get it. All right. We'll go."

She sits through the meeting, but it doesn't help her much. By the time it's done, she's hungry and she's irritable and she has to admit, she isn't feeling great. She's used to little sleep-she's a doctor, after all-but lord knows it's something more draining than work that's keeping her up these days, and her arm is throbbing something fierce. By the time they're out, she is resigned to admitting that she needs to bail on the day.

"Amelia?"

"Hmmm?"

"Can you drop me home instead?"

Amelia stops, stares at her. "All right. Spill."

"I'm good."

"You're not. Char, what is it, hon? What aren't you telling me?"

"Very many things. Look, just drop me, will ya?"

Amelia frowns. "I'm calling Cooper."

That does it. She's had it. Enough with the goopy eyes, she expects that from Violet, from Cooper, but not from Amelia too. And she is so, so sick of all the minding, and watching, and meddling, and lord have mercy, the talking...

"Look, just drop me or don't," she snaps. "I'm not saying anything else."

Amelia drops her at home. She's back to her usual poker face and she doesn't even look angry that she's been yelled at. Great. Something else to feel guilty about.

* * *

Cooper is late, coming home. "Addison's friend Callie is in town," he says by way of explanation. "She brought her by the office just as I was leaving and I had to say hi. They invited us over, for drinks. If you feel up to it..."

"Of course I feel up to it," she snits. "Why wouldn't I?"

He's eyeing her warily. He's clearly been briefed by Amelia...

"Okay..." he says slowly. "So...I'm going to go change my clothes. And you could change yours too, if you wanted to. Or have a snack. Or have a nap..."

"So help me, Coop, if you keep hovering on me like this, I'll take you to Addison's and leave you there."

"Okay," he says again. He pastes on a cheerful smile and slowly backs away into the bedroom. "Um, twenty minutes?"


	2. Chapter 2

Part 2

She doesn't remember being the last time she's been to Addison's house. It's tasteful, and spacious, and she's grateful, frankly, for a little room tonight. She knows Cooper is watching her. She's sure Violet and Amelia are too, and Addison's friend Callie was avoiding looking at her cast a little too deliberately. Eyes everywhere. Spies everywhere. Great.

It occurs to her that the mood she's in right now might be nothing more than another escalation. She's still on those stomach-eating anti-virals (two more weeks of that, oh joy) and frankly hasn't been able to manage much else in her system with that going on. And she's on maybe three hours sleep here, and not great sleep at that. She's seeing things, and she isn't sure it's only happening when she's asleep at this point.

But whatever it is she's feeling, paranoia or not, she _is_ feeling it, and it's hurting. She's going through the motions, but it's taking effort right now. Damn. Been here, what, an hour so far, and already, she needs air?

Coop comes up behind her, a wine glass in hand, and he offers it to her with a kiss and a chipper smile. That does it. She snorts, pushes past him and fights her way out, and straight onto the beach.

There's a deck. Salt water smell. It's peaceful. She closes her eyes for a second, and when she opens them, Sheldon in there.

"It's a beautiful view, isn't it?" he says.

She arches an eye. "That it?"

"Is what it, Charlotte?"

"You're not gonna ask me how I'm feeling? Then go back and report to Cooper and Violet about it?"

He sets down his wine glass, rests his arms on the railing. "Well," he says. "I'm guessing that if you wanted to tell Cooper and Violet, you'd do it yourself. You certainly don't need me to run interference."

"Damn right."

"And if you really wanted to talk to them right now, you probably wouldn't have come out here."

"Right again."

"So I'm guessing that you're out here for the same reasons I am. You wanted some air, it really is a beautiful view."

They stand there for a moment, enjoying it together. And because she has her eyes closed and the salty-sweet breeze on her, and she's at a four and holding on her panic scale, she asks him.

"Sheldon?"

"Hmmm?"

"If it was you instead of Coop, would you be doing it differently?"

He blinks, momentarily taken aback by the question. Then he says "Maybe. But there are a lot of ways Cooper and I are different, Charlotte."

"Well, yeah. But would you do it differently?"

"With you, or in general?"

"Both, I guess."

"Well, with you, I am already. And in general...well, that's hard to say. Even training like mine can go out the window when it's someone you love that you're dealing with."

"Thank you, Sheldon."

"My pleasure. Wine?"

* * *

She goes back inside and almost crashes straight into Addison's visiting friend.

"Hey. Sick cast."

"Yeah. Thanks."

"I'm ortho, so I notice these things. I'm not prying, I swear."

"Uh huh."

"I'm Callie. Addison and I, we used to work together."

"Charlotte."

"Right, I heard about you. Chief of staff? Takes crap from nobody?"

That feels very far away these days. She bites her lip, scans the crowd for Cooper. She wants to go home. Now.

She corners Amelia. "Hey. You seen Cooper around?"

"No, he's...hey, you okay?"

"Stop asking me that!"

"Sorry! Just...you look a little flushed."

"Too much wine, I guess."

"Oh. Did you have wine?"

She blinks, trying to remember. She came in here for something. What did she come in here for?

She steps back, nearly bumps in again to Addison's friend, who's watching her with a look that's bordering on suspicion. More pity eyes. Just what she needs.

"Coop?" she calls out. No answer. Damn, it's hot in here.

"Have some water," Amelia says.

She tries to lift her arm, but it's heavy, and it's hot and she isn't feeling very well. Hands reach out to her, just as her knees buckle and she collapses in Amelia's arms.

* * *

She's on a bed, an unfamiliar one, a fancy one in a room with a pile of coats stacked on a chair in the corner. Addison's house. She remembers this now, remembers there was wine, but she didn't drink it. And there was noise, and there was air and there was...

She tries to sit up, can't quite manage it. Her head is throbbing, and her arm feels sweaty and plump.

"You have a fever," a voice says. Addison, she thinks. As she manages to open her eyes just a tiny bit, she sees her, and Cooper and Amelia too.

She groans, tries to mop a flush of heat off her cheek. She can't lift her goddamned arm...

"Charlotte, I need to tell you something," Addison says. "We need to take you in for awhile. To the hospital."

"No..." she chokes out a whisper. "What..."

"We need to take your cast off and have a look at your arm, Charlotte. We think you might have an infection."

She can't stay at the hospital. She can't _sleep_ at the hospital...

"Now, the good news is, if this had to happen, it happened now, while Callie's here. She's one of the top ortho surgeons in the country..."

"Whoa," Cooper interrupts. "Surgeons? We need surgeons?"

"If it's just an infection, no. But if it's something else, you'll be glad you have Callie here."

"But..."

"No buts. Amelia, can you drive him? I don't want him driving if he's..."

"But Charlotte..."

"Callie will take her."

"I'll go with her, I'll..."

"No. You don't need to see her like this. Go with Amelia, Cooper. We'll meet you there."

Her last fleeting emotion, before she blacks out, is embarrassment. Hell of a way to get people into your business, this.

* * *

She comes to in a hospital room. She's wearing a gown, and her arm is wrapped in gauze and not a cast anymore, but it still feels sweaty and it dangles on the bedsheet like a beached whale. Callie, Addison's friend, is lounging on the chair beside her, writing in a chart.

"Oh, hey. You're awake again."

"Yay for me."

"So, on a scale of one to ten, how bad is it hurting?"

"Nine. Maybe nine and a half. I'm hot. Really hot..."

"That'll pass. Can you manage? While we chat for a bit?"

"I can always manage."

"Yeah, so I hear. All right, first things first. I need you to sign some stuff and give me temporary OR privileges."

"What for?"

"Because you need me to operate on you. Charlotte, you have something called compartment syndrome. Do you know what that is?"

"Bone's not setting right. It's compressing the nerves and blood vessels."

"Right. Now, there's no necrosis yet, which is good, because it means we can fix this with surgery. But given your history, I have some concerns about how we're going to treat this thing. You are refusing narcotics. Did I understand that right?"

"You did."

"It's gonna hurt like a bitch. I mean, you'll be out for the surgery, but afterward, it's gonna hurt like a bitch."

"Uh huh."

"And you have some issues with anesthetics. If the problem was only the numbing cream, I'd shoot you up with Benadryl and give it to you anyway..."

"That wouldn't be smart. I'm on an anti-viral protocol right now, and the risk of cross-reaction is..."

Callie frowns. "You are? That's not in your chart..."

"No. It's not."

Callie catches her drift, exhales sharply. "Wow. I'm so, so sorry, hon."

"Yeah. Anyway..."

"Right. So, the problem is, it's not just the numbing creams, your file says you have a pseudocholinesterase deficiency, so I can't use anything ester-based. And that includes on the surgical side."

"Right."

"Which means you'll go under general for the surgery, have a long, rough coming out of it since I can't use the lighter ester-based ones, and be without narcotics or anything local for the recovery."

"Wow. You catch on quick."

"This is going to be a rough one, Charlotte. For both of us. I'm not sure I'm comfortable putting your body through that kind of post-op stress, especially when you're still recovering from other injuries."

"Haven't got a a lot of options, do we?"

"Guess we don't. One other thing I want to tell you. Then I'll let you rest for awhile."

"Okay..."

"If you want to talk...about the other thing..."

"Hell no."

"I'm just saying. I go back to Seattle in four days, and you're probably never going to see me again. What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, you get my drift?"

If she weren't about to throw up right now, she'd probably be a little more grateful. But even in her present condition, she recognizes that this is food for thought, indeed.


	3. Chapter 3

Part 3

She sleeps for awhile. God knows how, given what her history's been like in this area lately and given how much pain she's in, but she sleeps. Or at least, she mercifully blacks out in a near approximation.

When she wakes up again, Cooper is there and he looks rough.

"Of the two of us," she teases, brushing a finger up against his flush, tear-stained cheek, "I think I have the better excuse for this."

He manages a laugh. "That's my girl."

"Coop, are you gonna stick, for this? I know you hate this stuff..."

"I hate watching you suffer, yes."

"Well, given that. Are you gonna bail again?"

"I won't leave you."

"You stay, you need to behave yourself, you hear me? Don't make this harder on me."

"I won't, I promise. Just tell me what to do..."

She frowns, then gets an idea. "See Sheldon," she says. "I know, I know, Violet's your poison. But Sheldon, he has a bead on this. He'll steer you."

"You don't like Violet."

"I like her fine, as a friend for you. But Coop, you don't need a friend for this. You need a Sheldon."

He laughs again. "You, making jokes. This is a good sign."

She wasn't joking. She thinks about pointing this out to him, then she blacks out again.

* * *

There is noise, a hand on her mouth, an elbow looming down over her eyes. Again. But, different this time, there is a hot, searing pain in her arm and the lingering flush of a fever. It's only a nightmare, she tells herself. It isn't real...

He comes at her, but she's half-awake now, the pain in her arm grounding her to a place and time that isn't this. She's safe, and it's over, and she has some lingering bruises and a busted arm and everybody up in her business, but she can deal with that. She can deal with that by putting this, putting HIM in a box and never talking about it or thinking about it or acknowledging that it has ever happened. Violet's wrong, she doesn't need to talk so much. All she has to do is endure this until the bruises fade, her arm is healed and the rest of it just...just goes away somehow. She hasn't quite figured out the details on that one, but she's smart. She'll get there. And everything will be like it was...

"Hey, chica."

"Amelia. Coop, is he..."

"Was here, and went out again. Said he had to talk to Sheldon about something."

"Good boy. So, you get stuck with the minding again."

"I do not get 'stuck' with anything, Charlotte King, I thought you knew this already. I am here of my own free choice, visiting my friend. That's all this is."

"Uh huh."

"OR is booked. Couldn't get anything til mid-afternoon, unless you get some necrosis and they have to bump you up. She asked them to, given the pain situation, but she's an out of town doc with temporary status here, so unless you play the chief card..."

"That wouldn't be fair."

"Charlotte, this whole thing isn't fair."

"Amelia..."

"Hey, that's all I'm saying, I'm not exactly a Violet, you know. But you could play the chief card. And this would end sooner."

"Check the arm," she says. "Look for some necrosis, maybe."

"You don't want that."

"I don't want any of this. Like you said."

Amelia sighs, rolls up her sleeves, reaches out gently and tries to lift up her arm. She screams, grits her teeth, tries not to black out again...

"Easy does it," Amelia says. She's gently prying up a corner of the gauze. "Breathe, Charlotte, nice and easy. Just let me see..."

At last, it's over. She sinks back into the pillows with a pant, trying to catch her breath again. "Damn, Amelia..."

"Yeah. A little bruising, bit of a rash from being in a cast so long. Must itch like crazy."

"Can't feel much past the pain right now."

"No, I'd guess you wouldn't. Bruised, swollen. But no necrosis."

"Damn."

"Yeah. You gonna play the chief card? Make this whole sorry mess easier for yourself in that one, small way?"

She's dizzy, it hurts so bad. She closes her eyes. "Yeah. I'm gonna play the chief card."

* * *

Amelia stays until Callie comes back to check on things and gets booted out so she and Callie can talk.

"So? Sleep well?"

"Guess so."

"Liar."

"Yeah. So, can we bump this thing?"

Callie frowns. "Well, if you're going to play the chief card, I can get the OR first thing. But I'd like to see that fever come down a few notches. You're already dealing with the kickback from the anti-virals. Adding recovery from a non-ester general anesthetic and then post-op antibiotics to boot, it's going to hell on your system. And worse hell, if you have a fever too."

"And a rash, apparently."

"Yeah. And a rash. And we can't give you numbing cream. You realize, we'll have to put you in a cast again? Keep that arm immobilized and keep you from scratching and giving yourself an infection?"

"Hey," she says. "Don't look so sad. It'll be a nice distraction."

"A nice distraction? If what you have going on in your head right now is so scary that this is the only level of distraction that'll keep your mind off of it, then sweetie, you really need to talk to someone. Like, badly. Really."

"Let's not go there right now."

"I'm only saying. What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, right? Your little friends here never need to hear it from me."

"Yeah. So, how soon can you get me into an OR?"

"There is the question. Look, work with Pete this morning, will you? See if he can get the fever down. Any progress there, and I'll have you in surgery by lunchtime. Did you want to...to talk about anything? Before I go?"

"Not particularly."

"Just think about it, will you?"

She doesn't answer. But she's thinking about it, already. She's thinking hard.

* * *

Pete comes in, and he looks like he hasn't slept very much either.

"You okay to do this?" she asks him.

He smiles gently. "Are you?"

"Hell, Pete, I'm seconds away from chewing off my own arm here, so anything you can do..."

"Got it. Look, I wanted to say...I know this is hard for you..."

"No. You don't know."

"Okay, that's fair. I just wanted you to know, Charlotte, that this doesn't need to be weird for us, after. When this is all done..."

"And what if it never gets done?" she asks him. This is the first time she's voiced this fear out loud to one of them, and she has to admit, it's a bit of a relief to say it out loud. "What if it never gets done, Pete? What if this changes me and I am never the same again?"

"Then you go from being just this woman I work with to being this amazing, strong, changed woman I work with, and life goes on."

It's just the right thing to say. Who'd have believed it? She lies back and closes her eyes again, trying to ride out the pain while Pete does his thing.

* * *

She's getting prepped by noon, as promised. She still feels a tiny bit guilty for playing the chief card, but it had to be done. She can't go on like this. She needs it fixed, needs it healing, needs the pain to ease up just a little. She'd feel better, going into this, if Callie didn't look so grim. Well, excuse her for not being the happy sunshine story. Life's a bitch, is what it is.

Later, she's come out of the post-surgery fog and is aware there's darkness.

"We kept you out a little longer than we had to," a soft voice says.

Her head is spinning. Her arm still hurts...

"I know you're still coming out of it," the voice continues gently. "Just breathe and try not to throw up on me. But I wanted you to know, we kept you out so you could rest a little."

"Coop..."

"I'll get him. I'll let him stay with you tonight. You were a trouper, Charlotte. Good girl."

Callie, that's her name. And she has something to say to her. "He said the right thing."

"Who did, Charlotte?"

"Pete did. And it wasn't a dream. Before, I...I said something to him. And he said the right thing. And I never thought..."

Callie pats her cheek, smiles again. "You rest, sweetheart. We'll talk later."

Then Coop is with her, and she tries to sleep, or wake up, or come out of the hazy post-op fog she's in. But all she can do is lie there and hold his hand.

* * *

Later, Callie is there and she's feeling much more human. Still a little weak, a little shaky. Between the anti-virals and the rest of it, that's called for, she supposes. And her arm still hurts, but it doesn't feel quite so hot and swollen anymore. Callie is waiting until tomorrow to put the cast back on.

"You can't scratch," Callie tells her.

"I know."

"You still have a rash, underneath the sutures. It's going to itch, but you can't scratch."

"Got it the first time."

"They wanted you in wrist restraints," Callie says.

Big hands, strong hands, pinning her down. The taste of blood on her lips and a shadow of elbow coming down on her eye. No. No...

"Yeah," says Callie, watching her face. "I thought as much. So, we're going to wrap your other hand until we get the cast back on this one. You'll need help tonight, with everything. You won't be able to use your hands."

"Goody for me."

"Shocking though it might seem to you, your friends don't trust the nurses. One of them will be in here with you all night."

"Cooper?"

"Him too. He's gone home for an hour or so, to shower and get you some things. I think Addison is here."

"She drew the short straw, did she?"

"Now, come on. They care about you. Some of this attitude is coming from events, and I'm betting some of it probably isn't, but you need to know, they care."

"Oh yeah. I'm touched."

"You know, I think you will be, when all is said and done. We all get tested, Charlotte. The universe tests us, so we can learn. And your lesson here? It's okay to let people in sometimes. You need to get that. It's okay. And fine, you can start with me, because I'm a stranger and you're never going to see me again, so maybe that's safer. Or you can start with them, because you've made them kind of strangers too and maybe it's the same. But they care about you. And you're going need them, to get through these next few days."

Then Callie is done talking for now, and she gets out the gauze and tapes over all of her fingers. She can't reach for the water glass. She can't swipe the sweaty hair out of her eyes. She can't defend herself, from...whatever is out there. She can't defend herself, and that scares her most of all.

For now, she is dependent. On them. For better or worse, she needs them. She needs them all.


	4. Chapter 4

Part 4

Callie stays long enough to help her with the bathroom stuff and get her back into bed again. They both know she won't sleep much, under the circumstances. There's the pain, for one thing. The hot, terrible itching for the other. She's on IV fluids to keep her electrolytes steady, and while she's firm on the pain pills, she's let them dose her with antibiotics and an anti-nausea pill. She's spacey, yet oddly irritable and awake. And she can't use her hands, not even a little.

Addison has first shift, and except for the perhaps excusable sympathy eyes, she's behaving herself. She's snuck in some food from the aborted party, and both of them manage to down a little chocolate over the hour or so that Addison's there. For once, she's not being peppered with 'how are you feeling' questions; it's patently obvious, and nobody wants to waste their time.

"Just let me know when you want some water," Addison says. "Or anything else, for that matter. I'm here to serve."

And maybe it's that hopeful, gentle smile that wears her down at last, or maybe she's just so tired and scared and pitiful, or maybe it's gotten to her, what Callie said, but she can't help herself.

"I'm gonna do something a little unfair right now," she says.

Addison looks up from her magazine. "Oh?"

"I'm gonna ask you something. And I'm gonna see how you answer. If you say the right thing, it'll prove to me that all of you can...well, you know. And if you don't..."

The smile is a little bit nervous now. "Well, okay. No pressure!"

"Just...Sheldon said something right. And then Pete said something right, too. And maybe I need to hear it from other people..."

"Whatever you need," Addison says.

"We'll see. So, I want to ask you. When you look at me from now on, are you always going to see this?"

There is silence for a long, painful minute. Then, Addison says "Honestly? Maybe for awhile, I will. But in general? No. It's like...well, when I went to Seattle. I was the evil cheating bitch who cheated, and for awhile, yeah, I wore that some. But then people get to know you better, and you get some other dimensions. And maybe something comes up from time to time and triggers that again, but for the most part? You get on with your life, and they do too, and there are other things they know you for."

It's the right answer. God help her, but maybe there is something to this after all. It's the right answer. And for the first time since this whole sorry mess started, she has a tiny inkling that everything might be okay again.

* * *

She is expecting Cooper, next. Or Amelia, at least. So she's disappointed when Addison looks at her watch and then, a second later, Violet walks in.

"Where's Cooper?"

"I'm here for awhile."

"Yeah, I see that. Where's Coop?"

Violet sits down, with the serious face. "I know, you were expecting him. Charlotte, Cooper is speaking with Sheldon right now. It may be awhile."

"When I suggested it, I didn't mean this second," she complains.

"I know. This is...it's hard for him, Charlotte. Right now, it's really hard."

"It's hard for HIM?"

"It is. I know it's nothing like what you're going through, but he's...he wants to be there for you. And he's trying, he really, really is. He just needs a little help right now."

"He needs help? Violet, I'm lying here helpless and knocked out on drugs, and I can't use my hands. I'm the one needing help here!"

"Which is why I'm here. Charlotte, he's leaning on us. And you need to understand, you can lean on us too. We're here for you."

"Because you actually care? Or because you're such a nosy parker you just can't look away?"

Violet sighs. "I'm going to chalk that one up to you not feeling very well."

She fidgets, trying to adjust her position. She's hot, but she's cold. And she can't adjust the blankets, with her fingers all wrapped up...

"Here," Violet says. She pulls the blanket up over her lap, then folds back the corner so her swollen arm is as exposed to the air a little. "Better?"

"Maybe."

"You want some water? Some juice? Some crackers?"

"No. Thanks."

"You want me to put the TV on? Maybe get you a magazine?"

"Violet?"

"Hmmm?"

"Stop trying so hard. Just let me be for a little while, will you? I'm not five. You don't need to entertain me."

Violet nods, sits back again. But after a minute, she can't help herself. "Charlotte? What are you thinking about right now?"

"I'm thinking that if I don't take something for my arm, I'm going to shoot myself."

Violet frowns. "Amelia has the next shift. Can you hold out for two more hours?"

"I'll have to, won't I?"

"Well, at least you told me this time. So, let's see. What can we do to take your mind off things?"

"Violet, there's only so many other places my mind can go right now. And I'm not sure any of them are better ones. Look, can you just stop trying to DO something all the time? Just leave it. Let it be."

"But..."

"But nothing. I'm gonna sleep for awhile. You do what you need."

* * *

She tries to sleep, tries pretending, even. But as soon as she closes her eyes, she hears noises and screams and the crunch of her bones underneath a giant, looming fist. Her hands tense, but she can't even fist them. They just twitch uselessly as she does the meditation breaths and tries not to lose it while Violet is here. But Violet's too observant. She watches her struggle for a minute, then puts down her magazine.

"Can we talk about this?"

"Oh, goody. More talking."

"Charlotte, it helps to talk. It really does."

"Helps me, or helps you?"

"Helps you. Helps me. Helps Cooper, maybe. We're trying to understand, Charlotte. We're trying to help, and we're trying to understand and we can't do that if we don't give us something."

"You want something?" She props herself up, looks Violet in the eye. "Well, how about this? I'm scared witless right now, Violet, out of my goddamned mind. Cause when I close my eyes, I see him coming at me, and I can't even use my hands to keep him off. If he comes back, right now, what am I supposed to do, exactly? I can't even use my hands!"

"Oh, sweetie. He's not coming back..."

"Oh, isn't he? How can you say that for sure? Got me once, didn't he? He's a goddamned psycho crazy person, and he got me once already. Round two, and I'm just laying here, and I can't even use my hands?"

"But we're here," Violet says. "We won't leave you, I promise you that. We're here, and..."

"You're just gonna keep saying that, aren't ya?"

"Until it sinks in. We're here, Charlotte. We're here."

* * *

Time crawls by, and she's craving relief something fierce and long past the point of hiding it even a little. She's up on the panic scale, then down, then up again, and her hands won't stop shaking. Violet's warned her twice already that if she doesn't keep the busted one still, they'll have to restrain her, and that thought sent her climbing straight to a nine, and it was work getting her back down again. Violet's threatened to call in Pete, call in Callie, call in Amelia. A part of her-the petty part, that's hurting right now and scared to bits-is a little bit glad she's making Violet work for this.

For the fourteenth time, Violet bites her lip and checks her watch again. "Amelia will be here soon."

Even talking is effort. She's hot, and she's cold, and it's hard to hold a thought for more than a second. "Yeah. You keep saying."

"And when she gets here, I can check in with Cooper and Sheldon. He'll be here, Charlotte, I promise he will."

She doesn't much care, at this point. Hard enough, like this, without his goopy eyes in the mix...

Then Amelia gets here, and she has Callie with her. And the misery hits her again, and she's sucking in panicked, pain-wracked breaths and looking pleadingly at Amelia.

"She mentioned pills," Violet says.

And Amelia gets the goopy eyes, just for a second, then takes over the business. "One to ten, baby. How bad?"

Ten, ten, all the way ten, on the pain and on the pills and on the rest of it. "Amelia, help me," she manages. And then, nothing.

* * *

She comes to, and there is Pete on one side of her and Callie on the other, and Amelia, dozing on the chair in the corner. Pete's working the hoodoo stuff, and Callie is writing something in her chart.

"Hey," Callie says.

"Hey. How long was I out for?"

"Ten minutes. Feeling better?"

"No."

"Craving pills?"

"I'll manage."

"That would be thanks to Miracle Pete, I'm guessing. Charlotte, we had to put you in restraints. If you want this to heal properly, you can't move that arm again."

And she looks and she sees that her wrists have now been shackled. "No..."

"I'm sorry, but yes. I know that's going to be an issue for you. And I'm really, really sorry about that. I just want that arm to heal, you get me?"

Her eyes tear up, she can't help it, and Callie sighs and gently strokes her hair. "I know. You're pretty much living a fight or flight response right now, and you can't fight, and you can't flight, so you're just going to lie there and panic and stew. Can I bring Violet in on this?"

"Find Coop," she says. "Please, just find Coop, I don't care what he's doing, I just need him to lie here and BE with me..."

Callie nudges Amelia, whispers an instruction. And then Pete is packing his stuff and they are leaving together, and she's alone with Callie again.

"I'm gonna be sick," she says.

Callie hands her the basin. Then sits there and waits it out without another word.

* * *

Coop comes. His eyes are red and serious, and he won't quite look at her. But, with a nod from Callie, he climbs into the hospital bed and spoons up beside her. At last, she cries. And he holds her and keeps his arms around her until she sleeps.

It's a dream, but not like the other ones; she isn't wrenched out of it this time. There is no sound, no light, no crunching. Just a black wall and a cold bench and a shadowy form sitting on it there with her. She knows at once who it is.

"You're not hitting me today," she says.

A sharp, shadowy head shake. "No," he says. His voice is raspy and thick. "I'm not."

"Did somebody hit you, once?"

"Maybe. I don't know."

"Are you...are you sorry?"

The shadow squints. "Excuse me, who are you, again?"

Then he turns his face, and he's Cooper now. She wakes up screaming, and can't make herself stop.

* * *

"Charlotte!" the voice is sharp and all-business. Amelia, she is aware enough to realize. Only Amelia ever talks to her that way...

"Charlotte, hon, I need you to stop that now. Look at me. You're okay, and I need you to stop. Listen to me, Char. You're safe, and we're here, but we need you to stop screaming and to keep your arms still."

It's coming back to her. The muzzled hands, the straps on her wrists, and the pain, oh god, the pain...

"There you go..." Amelia's talking again in her quiet voice, now that she sees she's coming around. "Easy...easy..."

She closes her eyes, takes in the hushed stillness, the frantic, but rhythmic beats of her heart as she breathes and tries to de-escalate.

"We need to medicate," Callie says.

Amelia shakes her head. "She doesn't want that."

"Come on, Amelia, another round of this and she could do permanent damage to that arm of hers. Either we medicate her for pain and take off some of the edge a little, or we put her on a psych hold and let them medicate her for that. But either way, I need to see some progress here."

"No pills," she says.

"It might not be up to you. Look, I'm sorry. I know that was a really sucky thing to say to someone in your situation. But if you want to keep control of this thing, you need to make some choices about how you want this to happen. If you don't want medication, you have to find another way to deal with this, and I'm not sure you've done that yet."

"Pete..."

"Pete's not in your head, sweetie, and that's where the problem is. Look, give me something. Please. I really, really don't want to want to medicate you against your wishes. And I don't think you want to go on a psych hold."

"I'm chief of staff!"

"Be that as it may. This is bottom, Charlotte. You get that, right?"

"No pills. You have no idea...please, no pills."

"Well?"

"It's when I'm sleeping. Only then. So I just won't sleep."

"I'm not sure that's a very practical solution."

"Let Violet try," Cooper says. For the first time, she notices that he hasn't left her yet, and a part of her goes limp, she's so relieved. "Let Violet try," he repeats. "Give us one hour, her and me and Violet, and we can get her over this hump. I know we can. Please, Callie."

"Untie my hands," she says. She hears the pleading in her voice and wants to smack herself, but she's so messed up she doesn't care anymore. "Please, just untie my hands. I'll wear the bandage. I won't scratch, and I'll keep the arm still. Just please, untie my hands..."

A grim-faced Callie pulls the restraints off. But there is no encouraging smile this time. "One hour," she says. And then she leaves them to it.


	5. Chapter 5

Part 5

"Well," Violet says. "Um...let's make you comfortable. Well, as much as we can I guess, under the...um, bathroom?"

"No."

"Food? Drink? Blankets?"

"Violet, no."

"Okay then. You want to tell me what set that off?"

"She tied up my hands."

Cooper frowns. "But..."

"But no. I see it, Coop. Whenever I close my eyes, I see it, and he's coming at me and I need to have my hands."

"But we're here, baby. We're right here with you, and..."

"You're not, though. Don't you see? It's not now, where I am. It's not now, and you're not there, and I need my goddamned hands!"

"Okay," Violet says. "I'm going to make a note on your chart. They won't restrain your hands again."

"Won't help," she mutters.

"Well, it's a start. A breakthrough, a little. You're telling us, some."

"There's more though," Cooper realizes. "There's more, isn't there? Charlotte, when he was...did he do something, to your hands?"

"Held 'em back, 'til he had me under him. Then it didn't matter. Just his hands in it, then. His hands, giant hands, giant fists, looming down on me..."

"Oh, baby..."

"Don't. You asked, I'm telling. There was the fist, Cooper. And then...then there were the fingers..."

Cooper's openly weeping, and she can't look at him. This isn't his pain. This shouldn't be his pain...

"You tell 'em, Violet. You tell 'em not to tie up my hands."

"Yes. It's on your chart. I've made a note of it."

"No pills. No pysch hold. None of that crap. I'll behave. Just let me have my hands..."

"Will you last the night okay?" Violet asks.

"Come to bed with me," she says, turning eyes on Cooper. "Just come and lie here and stay with me so I know I'm not alone."

"Yes. Yes, baby, whatever you need."

"Don't leave me. Not for one second. You stay with me this whole time. And if you feel me going there again, you wake me up before he gets at my hands. You understand me?"

Violet gets up. "That's enough for one night."

"What will you tell her?" Cooper asks.

"I'll tell her that we have a trigger, and we've identified it. As long as she leaves your hands alone, you'll get through this until she's back to check on you. We have a road yet, Charlotte."

"I know. I'll work with you."

"And Cooper, this is...well, it's gonna be on you tonight. You keep her as safe and comfortable as you can, and you follow doctor's orders on that arm of hers, or that's it. It'll be out of your control, out of both of your control, and I'll have to turn things over to Callie's authority on this. You get me? It's on you tonight, Cooper. Cause she can't have it be on her."

"Yes. I'll stay with her, Violet. She's gonna be okay."

"Okay. You have my number. Page me if you get in deep. I'd really like to keep this process under your control, Charlotte. Whatever support you need, just say the word.

There's business, not pity, in that tone. She appreciates that. She lets Cooper curl up beside her. She is very, very careful to keep her hands on top of his.

* * *

For all that earlier stuff, the night passes unremarkably. She thinks Cooper dozes a little. She stays wide awake. By the first hint of dawn, she's exhausted, but she's hell-bent on getting through this, whatever it takes. She'll white-knuckle it, until it doesn't hurt so bad. Then she'll worry about sleeping...

Cooper's fidgeting some. Still half-asleep, half-awake, and she knows he's terrified. Won't quite look her in the eyes, and there's that kicked puppy dog look. She wonders what he spoke about with Sheldon, but she doesn't ask, because that would mean talking, and talking is one thing she's damned sick of...

The door gently opens. It's Pete. And Cooper looks up at him, eyes profoundly grateful. "Thank god. I've had to pee, since, like, two a.m. but I didn't want to leave her..."

Her hands only linger on him for a second before she lets him go. Then Pete is coming around beside her and pulling up a chair.

"Hi, Sweetheart."

"Pete."

"You want to give me a number?"

"Eight. Would have been a seven if I'd had some sleep, but no such luck."

"I heard. I can probably get it down to a six for you."

"Knock yourself out."

He picks up her chart first, and she sees his face as he notices the new notation. When he takes out his stuff, he's very careful. He makes his entry point with the first acupuncture needle just above her shoulder, and doesn't stray more than a inch or two lower throughout the rest of the treatment.

* * *

The news is not as good from Callie. She wants to keep her in the hospital one more day, for observation.

"Do I have to sleep here again?" she asks.

"Well, you kind of haven't slept here already. So what's one more night of not doing that?"

"You're mad at me."

"I'm not mad! I'm just...I'm trying to help you, Charlotte. And you're making this very frustrating. You need rest. You need medication. You need therapy. You need..."

"I need to go home. I can't sleep here, Callie. I just can't. I can't do it."

"Well, then. You get some rest today, and I'll see about releasing you before dinner. But I am not sending you home, where I can't watch you, if you're just going to make yourself worse off than you already are."

"You're a bitch, you know that, right?"

"Maybe. But I'm a really good surgeon. I did nice work on that arm, and I'm not going to have you messing it up."

"Well, excuse me for not conforming to your little archetype of the perfect patient here. Let's get you in my shoes and see how YOU do!"

Callie sighs. "Okay, I deserved that. Look, all I want to see from you today is a little less suffering, okay? I want to see some sign that I can send you home, post-op, with no drugs, and what looks to be a raging case of PTSD, and you're not gonna totally go mental. Cause if you are? We can take better care of you here."

"Your concern touches me."

"Now, don't be a snark. Look, have a nap, get some food in you and leave that arm alone, and you can be home for dinner. If you puke, pass out or kick anybody, all bets are off."

"Noted."

"All right. I'm with Addison today. This was supposed to be my vacation, you know. But you can page me, on her cell, if you need me. I'll be back later to check up on you."

And she leaves them. It's just her and Cooper again. And he still won't look quite her in the eye.

* * *

He helps her wash, helps her do her business. The sheets are sticky and damp. A nurse comes by to change them, and another nurse comes by to change the bandage on her arm. She won't get a cast again until the swelling goes down and the rash has cleared.

"So, breakfast?" Cooper says.

She's feeling clean and tended to. It's put her in a charitable mood. "Okay, fine. Breakfast."

Orange juice, toast and something that she thinks are supposed to be scrambled eggs. It'll do. He cuts her food for her. Holds the fork, holds the glass. It's mortifying. She gets through half of everything before she bails.

"I'm done."

"Charlotte..."

"No. I'm running this deal. It's done, Coop. Now, let me rest."

And to her surprise, she does rest. There is less potency to the nightmare when she knows it's really daytime. Or maybe she's been lulled by the antiseptic rhythm of the hospital routine. Or maybe she's just too damn exhausted. But she sleeps, and when she wakes up again she feels almost human.

Amelia comes by at lunch, with contraband take-out food. French fries and chicken nuggets. It's somehow less horrible, needing the help, when there is no cutlery. She eats all of it. Wishes Amelia had bought the little tiny cookies too.

As she's finishing, Amelia says "There's a meeting."

"Oh?"

"At seven. I'm going. You want to come with me?"

"Yes."

"Should I look and see if I can find something earlier?"

"I'm holding. But thanks. Amelia?"

"What, hon?"

"Right now, it's easier, not having cutlery."

She sees Cooper's eyes widen at this unprompted disclosure, and she knows he is mentally adding this to his file of Charlotte-managing tips. The cutlery. The hands. That's two things he knows. She has given him two things, and both of them know that this is progress.

* * *

Violet comes back just as Amelia is leaving. They are still chaperoning; well, fine. If Coop feels he needs this much help with her...

"Hey." Cooper brushes his hand against her cheek. "Charlotte, you good?"

"Lot of visitors."

"Yeah. They care about us. About you."

"Just wanted to check in on things," Violet says.

"You don't need to do that. I'll tell you, if I have anything to say."

She sees Cooper affirm this with a small nod, and Violet smiles. "Well, okay. Coop, you need a break? Grab a shower and some food yourself?"

He looks to her, and she shrugs. "It's fine. I slept already."

"Okay," he says. "Give me an hour?"

He leaves, and Violet sits. She's smiling and looking for once like she really is just visiting rather than working. "Well, I must say," Violet says. "You look about a hundred times better."

"Slept. Ate some. Got cleaned up."

"Good girl. You ready to go home again?"

"Hell, yes."

"You have anything else you want to tell me?"

She sees how this is. She remembers what Amelia told her, about dealing with sharing people; you have to share sometimes. And she remembers what Callie told her too, about strangers and how much easier that is.

"Maybe not you," she says after a moment. "But yeah, I got things to tell."

Violet declares this urgent enough to page Callie back again, over her protests. She's fine. She's feeling good again, for the first time in days. Her arm is still hurting, but she can deal with that. She's fed, she's rested and that edge of angry panic is dull-for now, anyway. She's good, and this is not an emergency.

But Violet begs to differ. "I've said all along, this whole thing is in your head. Charlotte, if you can talk to her-really talk to her-"

"Maybe I can. Cause when I'm done, she'll go away again, and I won't have to look her in the eye every day and feel like she knows my business. Do you get that, Violet? Do you get how maybe that's a little easier?"

"I do. But I'm paging her now, before you change your mind on me."

So Callie comes back, and she's quiet and she's gentle and she's not even angry anymore. And she listens, to all of it, to every little thing, and she tells her, doctor to doctor, woman to woman, which thoughts will pass, which thoughts need further dealing with, which ones Cooper can handle and which ones she should be wary of over-sharing. She's not a stranger, by the end of it. But she's Vegas, and everything that happens there stays.

"You still have work to do," Callie tells her. "With Violet. With Cooper. This isn't over."

"No. It never will be, maybe."

"But you're on your way. I'll sign the discharge papers, Charlotte. Go home and be with him. You need him right now. And he needs you too."


	6. Chapter 6

Part 6

So there she is, home again. She can tell Violet and Cooper are just bursting with curiosity about the things she told Callie after she kicked them out of there. She braces herself, white-knuckles it, prepares to give them something.

"So, the nightmares are gonna be an issue."

They both nod somberly, watching her like attentive schoolchildren.

"Not sure there's much we can do about that. It's gonna look worse than it is. You just have to...Coop, you just have to be there for me, calm me down, wait until it passes."

"Amelia's very good at..."

"No. YOU, Coop. I need you on this, and this is a job you can do. What Amelia's doing, that's something different, that's a place only she can go because she gets it. But this, you can do."

"Okay. I calm you down, and I wait until it passes."

"Now, Violet. Not sure what exactly you're gonna be expecting from me."

"Well, I think it will help, to talk it through one time. Tell me all of it."

"No."

"We can work up to it, if that'll be better. Look, Charlotte, when I have you in front of me like that, as a patient, that's all it is. It stays in the box for me. This won't affect us, going forward, as partners in the practice."

"Yeah. Pete said that too."

"The therapeutic relationship is a sacred one. It will be a safe space for you, I promise it will."

"Just all tangled up for me," she admits. "You being friends with Coop..."

"In a situation like this, that doesn't even enter into it. Charlotte, Cooper and I made a deal today. He won't talk to me about this."

"Oh?"

"I'm seeing Sheldon, actually," Cooper admits. "And it's like Violet says, I'm his patient, so all of it stays in the box. He won't judge me. He won't judge you, either. He's just going to help me get through this with you, be there in the best way I can be, deal with whatever feelings I have about it."

"Oh, I'm not worried about what Sheldon thinks."

He smiles. "Good. That's good. I want this to be...I don't want to put this on you, or anything, because I know it's not...just that I have feelings too, Charlotte. This is hurting me too. Not on the level it's hurting you, obviously, but I do need some help. And I know it's a conflict, Violet being my friend, Violet being your therapist. I want you to have that safe space with her. So I thought...I went to Sheldon, like you said, and you were right, he does have a bead on this. I think he can help me. This is...it's okay?"

"Goes in the box, like you said. I prefer to keep it business."

"Okay," Violet says. "So we go through it together. And then, we can start breaking down some of the triggers. Get you de-sensitized to some of the bigger things, like we did with Addison."

"That was rough, that one."

"Yeah. It's gonna get rough again, before it gets better."

"Just what I like hearing."

"Hey, I'm being honest with you. I'm in straight-on business mode, here."

"Well, that's another thing," she says.

"Oh?"

"I want to have a party," she tells Cooper. "Make it up to Addison for ruining hers. And I want...need them all to prove it to me, that they can...they all keep saying, it's in the box, it's in the box. Not sure I believe it yet. Need one night where they can prove to me that they can interact with me about something and not have it be all weird."

"As soon as Callie clears you to use your hand," he promises. "We'll do it then."

There is something to that, she supposes. Wait until she's out of all the bandages and all the physical reminders have healed...

"For now though, I need you to back off for today. I'm going to a meeting with Amelia. That'll take something out of me. I just need to breathe."

"Got it. Charlotte," Cooper says. "I love you. You know that, right?"

"Love you too, Coop. Now, back off. I need to get ready."

* * *

She's aware, as she always is, of the stares. She's hitting up a meeting of narcotics addicts with her arm in a sling and her body still moving like she's been hit by a semi. She's still a little spacey from the anti-viral meds, and if she weren't who she is, she'd still be in the hospital.

Amelia stays right beside her. She appreciates that, appreciates having her just be there without talking all the time. Appreciates that Amelia is not a sharer, but decides to reward her just this once.

"I beat this before, you know," she says.

They are in the car, on the way home. Amelia looks over briefly at her, then turns back to the road. "Beat what?"

"The pills. I beat it before. And a part of me is feeling like why would be so terrible, having 'em again this one time, just get over this hump some...and then I could beat 'em again, like I did the last time."

Amelia brakes hard, swerves to the shoulder. Turns and meets her gaze full-on. "How big a part?"

"Big enough, but I did the right thing and decided to come to the meeting. I'm not stupid, Amelia. I'm just telling you. A part of me went to that place."

"You'll get through this. You know you will."

"Now, come on. That's a platitude, and you know it is."

"So, what do you want me to say?"

"Nothing, Amelia. You don't have to say anything. That's why I like you."

"Okay. So, deep breaths. And we just take it day by day, right?"

"Minute by minute at this point. Damn, Amelia, I'm next-day post-op on somebody cutting into my arm here. Kinda all I can think about right now."

"Okay, minute by minute then. And just know that on some level, I-and everyone at that meeting-is feeling it, minute by minute, right along with you."

"That counts," she admits. "I shouldn't need to hear it. But it counts."

* * *

Amelia drops her at home, and she's back to grouchy and exhausted mode again. All that progress earlier today-the sleep, the food, the return to almost human-gone. It's dark again, and there are too many shadows. She goes inside, and she doesn't see Cooper right away. She almost turns right around and bolts for the car. But she sees the bathroom door open and Cooper come out, towelling off his hair.

"Did a workout," he says.

"Oh?"

"A yoga video. Sheldon's idea. He says it will relax me."

"And did it?"

"Not really. How was your meeting?"

"Amelia's idea. She says it will relax me."

"And did it?"

"Not really."

"So..."

"So, you're hovering, Coop. Stop doing that."

"Sorry. I just..."

She shakes her head. "No. You got to start putting it in the box a little, Coop. What would we usually do on a night like this?"

"Have sex."

She winces. "Assuming that wasn't an option. You have the flu or something."

"Well, if I had the flu, I'd be whining and complaining like the biggest baby in the world and you would be tending to me like I was a three-year-old and making me chicken soup. Somehow, I don't think you want me doing that for you right now."

"Damn it, Coop. Well, we just don't feel like it, than. Or, we did it before and we're done already."

"Well, all right. We'd get take-out. Watch a movie, maybe."

"So, let's do it. Get me some pizza. I won't need forks."

"Charlotte..."

"No. I'm trying, Coop. God help me, I am trying to just put this in the past and move on because I don't know how else I can deal with this kind of thing. Am I supposed to just sit here and wallow in it? Would that be more appropriate for you?"

"Okay, you're right, you're right. Pizza and a movie. I'll call it in."

"Coop?"

"Yes, babe."

"Do me a favour and just listen for the driver? Not sure I want him just waltzing up here and banging on the door."

That's another vulnerability she's giving him. He accepts this for the gift that it is, and when he's made the phone call, he parks himself by the door and waits, standing watch for her until the danger is over.

* * *

She lets herself cuddle up on the couch beside him, lets herself put her head on his lap. But she can take it no further, and he doesn't press her to. He's careful to keep his body slightly distant and to keep his hands where she can see them.

The movie is totally ridiculous, a guy thing Cooper picks. The scenes consist solely of car chases. There is no other violence. There are no conversations. She drifts off a few times, jolts awake again, drifts off. She's restless, and she can't get comfortable.

"Your arm?" Cooper prompts her.

"Hurting."

"Anything I can do?"

"Not really."

"You need Amelia?"

She bites her lip, considers it. She does. She doesn't need to talk or vent or cry or any crap like that. Just needs someone who gets it to sit with her, to feel it too.

"It's no slight on you," she says after a moment.

"I know. I get it, babe, I do. I'll call her for you."

When Amelia gets there, she's already moved to the bed and is lying there, as best as she can, keeping her breaths shallow and short, trying to ride it out and wait for things to get a little better. Amelia says nothing; just climbs into bed and lies down beside her. Getting it. Feeling it too.

They are still lying there, like that, when Cooper comes to wake her in the morning.

* * *

_Epilogue tomorrow. Thanks for reading!_


	7. Chapter 7

Epilogue

She wants to work again, but Cooper begs her to spend one more day at home.

"And do what?" she asks him.

"Sleep. Eat. Recover."

"Brood," she counters. "Crave. Hurt."

He sighs. "Point taken. At least promise me you'll stick to paperwork, and take an extra-long lunch."

That doesn't turn out to be a problem. By the time lunch rolls around, she's feeling shaky and irritable again.

"Food," she tells Amelia. "Then a meeting. Please."

They swing by the hospital on the way back, so that Callie can check her arm again before she leaves to go back to Seattle.

"It's good," she tells them. "I'd like to keep you in the sling until the sutures come out and the rash is cleared up. Then Pete or whomever can put the cast back on."

Then Callie turns to Amelia. "Can we have a minute? Alone?"

With Amelia off in search of coffee, Callie grows serious. "So, honestly? How crap do you really feel?"

"Holding."

"I see that. But...look, this has been a rough one, and for me too. I don't think I've ever even done a surgery where the patient couldn't have anything, not even a numbing cream. I was cutting into you in there and thinking damn, she's going to feel this all afterward. And then...the other stuff on top of it..."

"Yeah. Sorry. Guess I ruined your vacation."

"No! It's not...I mean, I don't mean..."

"I know what you mean. Kind of sweet of you, being all concerned like this. But I'm holding. I am."

"Well, if you ever want to talk again..."

"Don't think so. But thanks."

She heads back to the office with Amelia, and she's thoughtful. Maybe she's wrong after all, about the talking. Sure, it's hell having people she works with all up in her business. But maybe this is what Violet and her whole safe space deal is for. And maybe, people like Amelia-like Cooper-can be a safe space too...

Amelia's making chit-chat as they pull inside, but she tunes it out, still lost in thought. She sees Cooper heading from the kitchen back into his office, and makes her decision.

"Coop! Hey, Coop!"

He turns, sees her, smiles. "Hey babe."

"Can we talk for a minute?"

He trades looks with Amelia, clearly not expecting this opening. But he nods, and she follows him into his office

She sits, fidgets. Tries to look unafraid.

"Okay, this may take more than a minute," she finally says.

He doesn't go around to the other side of his desk, though. He comes and sits with her, smiling, waiting.

"So, here's the deal. Got my arm checked today. You know, before Callie leaves?"

"Yes."

"Says I'm stuck in this sling until the stitches come out and the rash clears up. Then I need to find someone to put a cast on again. I'd rather not involve Pete in my business any more than I need. Can you handle this for me?"

His eyes tear up and she shakes her head, maintaining the composure she needs to get through this conversation. "You'll have to check it for me, Coop. Every day. See how it's healing."

He takes a deep breath, trying-not all that successfully, but even so-to keep composure too. "I will. Of course I will. I'm honoured. I'm very good with casts, you know."

"I just bet you are. So, we're good, than?"

He breathes out again, the mist at last clearing from his eyes. "Oh, yeah. Yeah, we're good."

THE END

_Thanks for reading!_


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